Why I Stopped Running to Punish My Body

Have you ever had one of those crystal-clear moments where you think, “I cannot do this anymore. I have to change something”?

I definitely have.

I was sitting in cell biology my sophomore year of college when I noticed my arm jiggling more than I was used to. I'd gone to erase something on my notebook—just a normal, forgettable motion—and instead I zoned out for the rest of class, fixated on it. The professor kept talking. Something about mitochondria, probably. I couldn't tell you, because I was somewhere else entirely, running that erasing motion over and over again to really FEEL the jiggle. Disgusted with myself. I remember thinking I'd let things go so far "down the toilet" that I didn't recognize my own arm anymore. I sat through the rest of that lecture doing math in my head—how I wasted an entire year doing nothing, how I used to be smaller, more athletic.

‍That feeling is where my running started—not from a place of wanting to feel strong or capable—from a place of punishment and disgust.

I started waking up at 6am to run loops around campus because I believed I owed my body a debt, and feet-to-pavement were how I'd pay it off. No music, no plan, no real idea what I was doing. Just silence and breathing and the quiet conviction that I deserved to be tired. My college had a gym, but I had not explored that yet, so running was the only thing I knew to do.

I tried to only eat “healthy” things. No breakfast. Just a salad at lunch. Trying to get a salad and a healthy chicken breast at dinner in the cafeteria. Trying to put as little in my body so I could burn it all off and then some when I ran. If you've ever started a workout routine because you were disgusted with yourself rather than because you wanted something for yourself, you already know that feeling in your chest, of desperately wanting to not be so disgusting (or ugly or “fat” or jiggly or fill-in-the-blank). It’s that feeling of not being good enough that we desperately want to run away from. Punishment and extremes work for a bit, but it’s not a foundation you can build on.

Here's what actually happened over time, though. Without me noticing at first, the running stopped being about punishment and started being about clarity. I started to feel better about myself. I wasn’t as out of breath. I could go further and further. I began exploring new roads.

I gained some confidence and self-efficacy. I ran often enough that I began to feel like a runner. Not a track star or anything, but someone who knew they could run because…well, I’d already done it. (Any HP fans out there?)

The more consistently I ran, the better I felt. I was more focused, I felt more motivated to make good food choices, knowing if I had pizza at night, I’d feel nasty during my run the next day. My body would crave water and fruit after a run, good, healthful choices.

If I skipped more than a day, I could tell. It felt like something was missing. I felt it—not in my body, in my focus, my mood, my ability to sit still in a lecture.

I wasn't becoming a different person. I was becoming a better version of myself. Applying the loyalty and consistency I had in school, in relationships, in work, to myself. I was becoming loyal and consistent to myself and this body I live in. I wasn’t something to “fix,” I was something to improve, to cherish and nurture. Consistency, not punishment, is what actually changes you. And consistency has never once required you to be disgusted with yourself first.

‍I think about that college sophomore a lot, especially when a new client tells me she wants to "earn" her dinner or "make up for" a missed week. I get it—I lived there. I had a client tell me once that she felt guilty taking a rest day because she "hadn't done enough" to deserve one, and I recognized that voice immediately, because it used to be mine. We didn't fix that in one conversation. It took a few months of her taking the rest day anyway, trusting me and my experience, and reporting back that the world hadn't ended.

I'm not interested in coaching anyone into the version of fitness that runs on self-loathing, because I know firsthand it doesn't hold. I’m not going to give you “cheat” days or punish you with hard workouts for being “bad” while you were on vacation. That’s not sustainable.

What holds up over time is showing up again tomorrow, not because you hate where you are, but because you're building something. If you're standing where I used to be—lacing up for the wrong reasons but still lacing up—that's a fine place to start. You don't need the right motivation to begin. You just need to keep coming back long enough for the reason to change.

If you want a plan that's built around that instead of around punishment, Run Ready is the place I'd point you, or you can grab the freebie and start smaller. Or you can reach out to me directly to chat.

Let’s not punish ourselves anymore. It’s so much more fun, rewarding, and efficient to focus on building, not punishing.

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-bk